Waiting In Vegas » Oops! Accidents Happen

Happy Anniversary Gary & Bob.

Sun, 26 Jun 2011 01:57:35 +0000

One of the hardest parts of waiting tables in Vegas is keeping your sanity. Dealing with drunk assholes who sometimes reward you with a handful of change can get pretty depressing. Personally, I make it through my grueling 8 hour shift by having an awesome sense of humor. I will do anything to break up the monotony of my day.

Here’s a pretty good example:

Tonight we celebrated two birthdays at work. I was elected to purchase a cake and opted to get a cake make of cupcakes, with the gayest frosting colors I could find. I had the bakery attendant put “Happy Anniversary Gary & Bob.”

Yada, yada, yada, at the end of the night there were a few remaining cupcakes leftover so before throwing them out, the other closer and I jokingly threatened to throw them on each other. I tried to convince him to simply allow me to smash him in the face with the tray of cupcakes. In exchange I offered to close out his remaining tables. I retracted my offer once I realized he had so many tables left. Just as we were debating it, the very pregnant hostess walked by. She offered to let me smash the cupcakes in her face if she was allowed to leave early, right afterwards. Once I got permission from the manager, It was on, bitches.

I gotta tell you, hitting a visibly pregnant woman in the face with a tray of cupcakes is a lot harder than it sounds. It’s not that the tray was heavy – for fuck’s sake it was 4 cupcakes on a cardboard tray. It’s just the debate that goes on in your head takes a lot to overcome. A little voice in my head was repeating, “This seems so very wrong.” Luckily, a louder voice was saying, “Hellz yeah, I’m about to hit someone in the face with some cupcakes.”

She prepared herself by taking off her glasses and pushing her face forward. I couldn’t do it with her staring at me so I made her close her eyes. Then I couldn’t do it because I felt bad smashing the entire tray into her face so I opted to go a kinder, gentler route – I just used a single cupcake. I neared her face slowly and then smooched the cupcake into her chin and mouth area. The excessive blue frosting smeared all over the bottom area of her face and dripped into her ample, pregnant bosom. All in all it was a gratifying experience. I would definitely do it again and I would highly recommend it to others.

It did take her about 10 minutes to clean the frosting off of her face – maybe next time I will be more considerate and get white cake with white frosting.

There will definitely be a next time.

Token Black Guy Makes A Blunder

Sat, 26 Sep 2009 17:25:21 +0000

Not sure if you have noticed but there aren’t a lot of black servers in restaurants. I don’t know if it’s because black people are notoriously shitty tippers and they think all people tip similarly OR maybe they feel that waiting on people is simply beneath them. The fact is that black servers are a rarity in real life – rare like a Northern Hairy-nosed Wombat, only not really resembling Northern Hairy-nosed Wombat in any other way.

I’m fairly certain that if there were more black servers, all black people would be easier to wait on. Either they would have experienced waiting on people first hand or might know someone who has. This would give them the insight they need to not treat you like their personal servant and maybe they would even tip you accordingly. It’s just a theory though – we will never know for sure.

With that being said, we do have one black server – token black guy. I’m pretty sure he was hired as a result of affirmative action and now we just keep him around because everyone needs a reason to dust off their black jokes on occasion.

Anyways…

This evening as I was at the computer terminal ringing in a table’s order I witnessed token black guy spilling a drink all over a british guy’s lap. He quickly apologized but the guy still seemed a bit miffed. When token black guy walked away the man said “What a tit.” I walked away laughing to myself.

I’m Not Drunk

Tue, 25 Aug 2009 07:54:25 +0000

A single man comes in and sits at the bar. He has obviously been drinking and orders a bottle of white wine. He sits and drinks his wine while watching some sporting event on television. After he finishes the entire bottle of wine a short time later he attempts to order another one. His speech is slurred and it takes a while for the bartender to finally understand his request. The bartender tells the man that he can’t have anything else to drink because he’s too drunk. The man insists that he isn’t drunk and that the bartender is a fucking moron who should just shut up and get him a drink. The bartender walks away and notifies the manager – a naive female who can never stand up to asshole guests.

The man and the female manager are standing in the middle of the room arguing about why he has been cut off. Right as the man is screaming “I’m not even fucking drunk – that bartender doesn’t know shit” his light tan slacks slowly turn darker in the crotch – the darkness continues to move down his pant leg. The man has pissed all over himself and is now standing in a puddle of his own urine. My manager doesn’t notice and they continue to argue for a few more minutes. The puddle is creeping towards my manager’s open toed shoes.

Meanwhile, me and my co-workers are laughing our asses off and just praying that the puddle makes it to my manager’s foot. But it wasn’t meant to be – the conversation ended too soon and my manager escaped getting soaked in pee. She walked over to us (all standing in a circle at this point, trying to maintain our composure), I quickly asked “So…. what happened?”

She: I told him he could have a single glass of wine.

Me: Really…. don’t you think he was a little drunk?

She: Well… he will be OK. If he gets too drunk we will call security

Me: How will you tell if he is too drunk?

She: It will be obvious

Me: You mean like if he pisses on the floor?

She: Yeah, that would be a good sign

Me: You might want to call security

Then we all bust out laughing and point to the puddle.